Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire
by NotAContrivance
Summary: The aftermath of a drunken tryst. L.A.'s big enough for the both of them, so why is Canada so small? Christmas break throws a wrench in even the best laid plans. With Derek and Casey in the same house again, things are bound to get... fun.
1. Deck the Halls

Okay, I suddenly got this idea out of nowhere. Came to me when I was watching TV. I think. Whatever. I wrote it 'cause I had writer's block on everything else. Or I didn't feel like writing anything else. Actually, this is kinda crappy towards the end 'cause I didn't feel like writing it. But I wanted to get it out... There'll be more parts, I'm sure.

Anyhow, this chapter takes place in the fall (the rest take place in the winter). It's a future fic, if you can't tell. So Casey is 24, Derek is 25, George and Nora are of indeterminate but still old ages, Lizzie is 18, Edwin is 19, and Marti is 15 (Yikes!). So, basically, nine years have passed since the show (I'm assuming Casey was 15, Derek 16, Marti 6, Edwin 10, and Lizzie 9...). Casey and Derek are living on their own, separate from each other. Casey calls her mom every week, however. Edwin is at college, Lizzie's a senior in high school, and Marti's a sophomore. Everyone goes home for the holidays... Interesting, no?

I don't own anything that has to do with Life With Derek. That means no Derek, no Casey, no Marti, no Edwin, no Lizzie, no Nora, no George, no Abby (George's ex-wife... Dunno why I mentioned her)... Blah, blah, blah, you get the drift. I do own Casey's friends, however...

* * *

I couldn't believe I was here of all places... at a party. What on Earth was I doing here? I glanced around the place, surveying the scene. I really didn't belong here. This place had fast lifestyle and bad decisions written all over it. My friend, Jordan, had invited me. I was new to L.A.

She said it would be fun. I'd get to meet new people, maybe even snag a boyfriend. A friend of a friend was throwing the party. All of LA's hottest and youngest would be there. It was, and I quote, "totally trendy". She didn't tell me she ran with such a sophisticated bunch.

They're all party animals. I have seriously never seen a bar that size in my life. Or, for that matter, a house this size. Some guy's mansion, out in the country a bit, by the beach, away from the city. I didn't see Jordan anywhere, but I did see about a million major and minor celebrities. They were a glittering bunch and I felt like a drab wimp next to them.

Not that I wasn't wildly successful myself or anything. I was doing pretty well here. I just didn't tend to socialize much. Tonight, however, I was dressed to kill. My version of dressed to kill was noticeably cheaper than everyone else's in the room. A black leather miniskirt, four-inch black stilettos, a semi-transparent red lace tank-top, and a shiny black leather jacket that I've had since high school. Actually, I think I stole it from Derek when I was packing for college... whatever.

And, taking my friend Jane's advice (she's a fashion journalist), I parted my hair down the middle and curled it at the ends... I even put on the make-up she told me to wear. I look great, just like she said I would. Any man would be lucky to have me.

Well, I suppose I might as well just dive on in. Which happens to require moving. I sighed, still glancing around nervously, and took off my jacket. I placed my purse in it, wrapping my jacket around it, and placing it in the designated room. I took a deep breath, fiddling with my hair nervously, before heading straight to the bar. Right now a drink sounded awfully nice.

I ordered one from the bartender. A martini, complete with a fancy crystal class and a green olive speared by a toothpick. Yeah, classy, I know. It was unbearably loud in here, I thought, grimacing. I took a sip from my drink and pondered just where to go. I'd come to the party all right, but somehow, I only found myself wanting to be alone. Suddenly, there it was. My escape.

It was a door, and, upon closer inspection, it led to the balcony. I slid out of the room and unto the balcony stealthily. Oh, good, there's a bench. I sat on it, sipping my drink and leaning backwards a little. My heart flip-flopped when my hand touched something warm. I turned around immediately to see the back of a guy (I had a sneaking suspicion he was cute). There was something about the way he dressed. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, but I could tell they were the fancy, expensive kind. He had young, hot, rich, and famous written all over him.

Then I glanced down at his hand. I flexed my fingers and he placed his hand over mine. He still didn't look at me, so I turned away, feeling shy. However, I didn't remove my hand. I merely sipped my drink and gazed up at the stars. They were so pretty, so distant and yet, so warm. They twinkled brightly against the inky black sky.

"So, take it you couldn't stand the party scene inside either?" He said, surprising me. He spoke to me out of the blue, and I didn't really know what to say. I nodded to myself before answering.

"Yeah. Parties aren't really my thing," I replied honestly, staring at the house. It was so fancy, so royal, so regal. I could never live in something like this. It was simply far too big for my taste. I wanted something simple... A house. A house big enough for my family to visit, for me to raise my own family in... Simple. I have always been a simple, low-maintenance kind of girl.

He laughed. "I just couldn't take it in there anymore. Everyone was acting so pretentious. Acting's just supposed to be their day job. I honestly don't know who they think they're kidding. Saying that they've read classics and watch all the right TV shows and have a degree just so that they can be trendy in yet another way... They're all so vapid and predictable. I just hate it sometimes," He retorted bitterly, obviously drawing some heavy sips from his own cup. I understood what he meant. He was like Holden Caulfield; he couldn't stand phonies. I got it and I got him.

I laughed at his joke, which was probably not the wisest thing to do... but, somehow, his bitter mockery of those people was funny and true. They say it's easier to confess to a stranger than a friend, and it was... easier for him, I guess. I don't know. I took a sip of my drink, feeling it start to take affect on me. It was starting to get to my head, so I turned to look at the guy. I crossed my legs, staring at him for a long, hard second before deciding to go for it. I leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder.

Immediately, with a wide smile on his face, he turned to face me. I was right... He was cute, very cute... But he was also- my stepbrother! My eyes widened in horror, and Derek's face mirrored my expression.

"Derek!"

"Casey?"

We were both a little freaked, but I was the first to muster up my composure. Derek was busy staring at my outfit. Of course, the little pervert! I took a deep breath before speaking, trying to be civil with him, which was so difficult.

You see, Derek and I had never really gotten along. We hadn't even really gotten close. Not that we lived together for that long... It was only two, maybe three years. Both of us moved out to go to college, separate schools of course. He went off to major in film-making at some art school, and I, well, I went after a more studious major. How could I have forgotten that he lived in L.A.? I mean, we didn't correspond or anything, but he was in the news a lot and Mom and George told me about him from time to time.

"So, I saw your latest movie... The one you wrote the screenplay for... _Hate and War_. It was funny, and in some way, really nice. I liked it. It was really true to life... By the way, thanks for getting a really pretty actress to play me..." I complimented politely. Derek smiled wryly, as if he thought I was lying to him. I really wasn't, though. I did like his movie, and frankly, I was rather flattered he'd made the character so attractive. Lord knows I wasn't that attractive when I was that age.

You see, Derek was a very famous director. He was in high demand. I'd read about him occasionally in the tabloids, and it was impossible not to hear about him in the city. He was always dating someone new. An actress, a singer, a playmate, a model... You get the drill. He was a literally notorious playboy, and he always had been, to tell the truth. But if he was such a flirt, why was I the only woman here with him? And by accident...

Because, you idiot, he didn't want to be found! And he knew this is not where anyone would expect him to be. Much less me.

Derek snorted derisively. "Oh, that? It wasn't anything. I was just sleeping with her at the time, and, well, she wanted a part. Though, seriously, we had some serious trouble keeping Michael and Ashley apart. There was all this sexual tension there... Had to keep reminding them that we weren't doing a remake of _Cruel Intentions._ Actually, I'm surprised you even bothered to see it..." Derek explained briefly, sans frills.

I frowned at the mention of his sexual... Just the fact that he's so free to admit that he had sex with the actress who played the character based on me. Is it just me, or is that a little creepy? I mean, he was sleeping with the actress who basically played me. Which is like, well, I think you can get the drift, and, freaky, right?

In case you're wondering, the Michael and Ashley in question are the actors who played his character and my character. Derek's huge. He has his own production company now. Derek hadn't invited me to the premiere. I was busy with school and work at the time, plus he thought I didn't want to go. He invited our whole family except me. Yeah, can you say burn?

"You're looking hot, Case," Derek muttered sometime later, during an awkward silence. He was slightly drunk, but so was I (if not more so). It turns out that he had a flask on him... He claimed it was for those days on set when the actors were being total bitches, or, of course, because you never knew when you might need it. I became slightly worried that he was an alcoholic from that point on.

I had long ago moved over to sit next to him, staring out over the balcony at the lake below. It was serene and peaceful. This was sort of nice... Wow, mind-boggling. We alternated sips from the flask, talking about stupid stuff from high school and the family and other stuff like that. His leg brushed my bare one, and then a second later, his hand did the same. I was surprised at how it nearly unnerved me and almost drove me insane. We were both well on our way to getting stinking drunk, but we didn't care in the slightest.

I must be drunker than I thought. Soon we were no longer talking at all. There was just a series of long silences punctuated by random chatter. Then we both realized we were completely wasted (I have a very vague recollection of this). It was after he said I looked hot, I remember.

"So do you..." I murmured, before grabbing him by the lapel and pulling him into a sloppy, rough kiss. Derek responded enthusiastically, and suddenly, I wasn't thinking anymore. At least, not with my brain. I remember being dragged through the party, kissing all the way. No one noticed or seemed to care. I didn't even care. It didn't register that I was kissing Derek, my still-stepbrother. Or that I was moving into something a little too fast.

I was stupid.. Drunk and laughing, and my world was spinning. But Derek kept me somehow grounded. I didn't think. I didn't look before I leap. I just jumped right into it. Before I knew it, we were locked in a crimson room... with a bed.

And then we were on the bed. I was light-headed and breathless. He was making my world spin and I liked it. I loved the feeling of his hands all over me, the sparks I felt, like little lightning sent coursing through my veins. I was full of energy, full of adrenaline, crazed and mad with lust. I couldn't take my hands off of him if I wanted to... and I didn't.

I don't remember much of what ensued after that. We didn't say much. I remember getting naked and him getting naked. Mmm, he looked good, I think... Some touches, more kissing, that sort of thing... Nothing real clear. But one thing stuck with me. That was the best sex of my life (not that I'm majorly experienced, but, hey, I've had a few boyfriends). Yes, the best sex of my life was with Derek, my stepbrother. Ew.

All I can say is... No wonder he was so many girlfriends. That and, how could you possibly be so stupid, Casey? It wasn't even protected! He could've given me an STD or something! Or, worse, gotten me pregnant! Imagine being stuck with a mini-Derek in my stomach! Oh, it's the stuff of nightmares!

I need a Morning After Pill. Ugh, I had a one-night stand with Derek. Derek, my brother, Derek. Is it hard to believe that before this I thought of him as a brother? Like seriously, I did! I didn't want to jump him or anything! And I didn't stare... Or think about him in fuzzy ways... Damn it.

Why does stuff like this always happen to me.

And then next thing I know I'm waking up next to him with one hell of a hangover. Wrapped up in his warm, inviting arms. Then his eyes opened slowly. He was awake. Now what the hell was I supposed to do? I couldn't sneak away... I couldn't pretend it had never happened. But I had to forget. I just... had to. For my own good.

I still had to see him at home for family matters, and Christmas was fast approaching. We needed to sort this out, and badly. Bad, bad Casey. Let this be a lesson to you. Don't ever get drunk. Ever.

Derek yawned, not at all reacting to my presence, only tightening his grip around my waist. A lazy grin spread slowly across his face. He pressed a wet kiss to my cheek. I still felt the sparks reverberating between us.

"Morning, Casey... You were good."

Now, what in the hell was I supposed to say to that?

* * *

Loren ;

Casey and Derek have, obviously, changed a lot. And not a lot. This fic is really a lot different than my other one... For instance, the whole thing's gonna be in Casey POV.

Review if you liked it! I love reviews. They are like oxygen! They lift us up where we belong! Okay, so maybe I've watched Moulin Rouge too much... Anyways, you heard the crazy lady! Review!


	2. Do You Hear What I Hear?

I'm surprised so many people liked this... Anyways, we're still in L.A. And it's not Christmas yet... But next chapter, trust me, it will be... ;) Next chapter it really gets started. And we get to see if the clueless author has any idea of what she's doing... So I'm gonna post this, go to bed, wake up, do S.S. Notes and homework all day, and then, late at night, get on and read your reviews. And they will make me smile and forget about the paper due on Tuesday and finals in a week and the two math assignments I haven't done and the research for the paper I haven't done and the test on Monday and the test on Tuesday and the four chapters of Social Studies notes I must take. Sigh. A lot to forget about, eh?

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." I mumbled distractedly, scrambling out of the bed so fast my head spun. I managed to regain my balance a minute later, feeling Derek's eyes burning a hole through my back. Feeling ashamed, I hurried to collect my clothes, haphazardly fastening my bra, pulling my underwear on. I zipped up my skirt and tugged on my shirt. Where was that damn jacket of mine?

Derek yawned loudly, stepping out of bed and approaching me from behind. Great, just what I need. He wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, so I forced myself to avert my eyes and look away. Little flashes of the night before were coming to me... Ouch. My head throbbed.

"What, no 'you were _amazing_, Derek'? Not even a good morning? ...It's no wonder you don't have a boyfriend," Derek taunted, disbelieving. I turned around and glared at him fiercely.

"You can't keep a girlfriend longer than a week," I retorted, annoyed, ransacking the place, looking for my jacket.

Derek snorted derisively. "What are you looking for, Casey? Your shoes are by the door," Derek pointed out coolly. I glared at him in the way I was accustomed to. By this time, he had pulled on his boxers (fortunately for me).

"I'm looking for my jacket," I hissed irritably. Then I saw it, there, on the middle of the floor. Unfortunately, Derek saw it too. He scowled.

"Hey, that's my old jacket!" Derek exclaimed, immediately going for it. However, I went for it at the same time and we had both grabbed an arm of the jacket and were playing Tug o' War over it. Eventually, we wound up wrestling... And next thing I knew, Derek was on top of me, straddling me and pinning me to the floor.

Realizing his position, he smirked amusedly, leaning in a bit closer to me. "Well, I didn't think we'd be doing _this_ again so soon..." He drawled, licking his lips. He looked really hot. I can't believe I just thought that!

This is Derek, my stepbrother, we're talking about here! DEREK!

Who you slept with last night.

Come on, admit it, Casey... You've always been a little attracted to him. Before you knew he was your stepbrother, remember, you started flirting with him... Then Mom came in and informed me of who he was and I didn't want anything to do with him, remember?

But he's not my type.

Funny, he seemed to be your type last night.

I grunted and flailed under him, trying to get up. Or I should say get me up, not him... Okay, Casey, not the kind of thoughts we need to be thinking. Then you'll go down the same route again.

"Yeah, well... We're not," I grunted, struggling in vain. Derek rolled his eyes, muttering to himself.

"That's not what you said last night," He mumbled, getting off me, jacket in hand. I stood up, dusting myself off, sending him a vicious glare.

"I was too drunk to **think** last night," I snarled frustratedly. Even after all these years... He still manages to get to me like no one else. Stupid Derek.

I snatched the jacket from him, hurrying to put on my boots. Derek scowled at me, pulling on his pants, looping the belt through his belt loops. "That's _my_ jacket, you know," Derek complained loudly... As if I cared!

Actually, that was the weird thing. It was his jacket. The one I'd worn to the party was in the room with my purse. The two jackets did look virtually the same, but I was hungover and confused and... Not thinking very clearly.

Especially as I kept getting flashes of last night.

Not exactly the most conducive visions to have, let me tell you. I was a bit distracted.

I struggled to zip up my boots, and Derek suddenly came over to me. I blinked, looking up at him (I was sort of sitting on the floor) confusedly. Derek smiled at me oddly, before leaning down and pulling me into a rough, passionate kiss. I'm ashamed to say that my eyes closed.

And more than a little bit embarrassed. It was too short. Uh, no, wait, it, um... I must really be hungover.

I immediately scrambled to my feet, almost bolting out of the room. Derek smirked, waving at me cockily. "Bye, Casey!"

It could have been worse. He could've said "See you at Christmas", for instance. Haha. If I had only known, right?

I walked through the party, which was surprisingly, still going on, though to a much lesser extent. It was crowded enough that I managed to sneak out remotely easily. Except, of course, for the slightly disturbing fact that I felt like everyone was staring at me during my Walk of Shame.

I didn't even do this sort of thing in college!

To make matters even worse, I was late for work. I sighed, running outside, looking for my car. There were lots of them there, but I found mine and started the long drive back home. I say long because it was still rush hour by the time I wound up on the freeway heading into the city. I wound up stuck in traffic for the better part of an hour, which gave me a lot of time to think about things... like Derek.

Derek doesn't have to be on time. Derek's a director. He's flexible. For all I know, he's not even working on anything right now. I am beyond late for work, and I was headed home, so I was bound to be even more late!

After what seemed like ages, I finally arrived at my apartment. I glanced nervously at my watch as I hurried in. I had accidentally forgotten my purse at the party, but fortunately for me, my keys were in my pocket along with my car keys. Other things, such as my drivers' license (a universal one, for both the U.S. and Canada) and my favorite lipstick were, unfortunately, in my purse.

I showered, put on new, work-appropriate clothes, did my make-up and my hair, and then popped a few aspirin before heading off to work. I did, after all, have a most horrendous hangover.

Jane and Jordan were waiting for me at work. I'm a wedding planner. Yeah, that stuff with Aunt Fiona's wedding sort of stuck... Or something. Now I feel like a cliché from a J.Lo movie, which is rather irritating, to tell the truth, but I make a bundle, so I don't care as much. Jordan, an annoyingly bubbly blonde who happened to be in charge of (surprise, surprise) party details, frowned at me. Jane, a tall, model-type with long brown hair, glanced at me curiously.

"I didn't see you at the party last night... Didn't you go?" Jordan pouted, looking somewhat hurt. No, you dumbass, I went. I nodded curtly, but my head reeled, and Jane cracked a smile.

"Yeah, she did, Jor... And she's got the hangover to pay for it," She mumbled amusedly. I nodded carefully, making sure not to jostle my aching head. Jordan frowned sympathetically, patting me on the shoulder. The feeling of being hungover was more than a little familiar to her.

"Oh, so what were you wearing?" She asked interestedly. As it was her specialty, Jane perked up a little, suddenly riveted to attention. I shrugged and told her. Immediately, this really weird, curious look came over her face.

Suddenly, something surprising seemed to come to her. She squealed, clapping her hand to her mouth excitedly. What's she going nuts about? Did she see me at the party and... I don't even... I'm confused. I raised an eyebrow, puzzled, shooting a look over to Jane. But Jane didn't get it either and merely shrugged, bewildered.

"I saw you," Jordan blurted, removing her hand. Her big blue eyes were wide and bright with cheer. It's too early in the morning for this. Too early. I nodded wearily, not caring. "You were being carried off by Derek Venturi into Chris' guestroom."

She said this in such a calm, steady voice. It unnerved me. I, however, had just started to sip my coffee when she said this, and wound up spitting it all over everything. Hot shock. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Jordan looked pleased for me. Jane's jaw dropped as she looked me over.

"You got laid," She gaped, stunned. Please, Jane, just for my self-esteem... Could you appear a bit less floored? Yeah. At that precise moment, a very vivid flash of the night before came to me. Very, very vivid. It was kind of like one of Derek's camera shots, you know? It reminded me of an out-of-body experience (not that I've ever had one of those) because I could see myself down there with him.

I nodded, feeling myself flush even further. "Yeah..."

Jordan frowned petulantly. "You're so lucky, Casey. I've always wanted to do him... I was at that party too... And he picked you!" Jordan whined in an annoyingly high voice. I winced. Yes, Jordan, maybe that voice is why Derek won't do you. He's sort of picky. That's why he dumps them after a week or two. He gets sick of them.

Which is why I'm not going to make a big deal out of this. Even though it is a big deal. I just slept with him, something I'm sure hundreds of girls can say. I was drunk and stupid. Enough said. Now, Casey, let's put the thought far from his mind and cross our fingers that we won't have to see him at a family gathering any time soon.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not lucky, trust me. I was just drunk and in the wrong place at the wrong time," I grumbled, sinking into one of the chairs. Jane raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer.

"So he wasn't good?" She whispered curiously, sounding shocked.

I rolled my eyes at her, sipping my coffee. "No. It's not that. He was great. I just should not have slept with him. I am supposed to know better," I answered, groaning. I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustrated. I should have known better. "I mean, I grew up with the guy. I know he's an ass... and still..." I sighed irritatedly.

Jordan blinked, confused. She wasn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box, so it wasn't exactly a new feeling, but still... "Whoa, wait... You grew up with _Derek_ Venturi, sex god **extraordinaire**, and _you_ didn't tell us?" Jordan asked breathlessly, sounding winded. Yes. I grew up with the idiot. Can you really call three years growing up with him, though?

I shrugged, taking a sip of my coffee. It went well with the aspirin. "I did live with him for three years," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed. I did not want to have to explain why we were living together. It was kind of squicky to just think of it.

Jane tilted her head a little, raising her eyebrows. If it was possible, Jordan looked even more floored. But after a moment, she got excited. "Ooh, so what was it like?" Jordan gushed. Damn her bubbly ways. It was just too early in the morning...

Jane and I rolled our eyes in stereo. I shrugged once again. "He was a teenager. What do you expect?" I responded, pausing briefly and taking another sip of my coffee. This time I burned my tongue. Ouch. I took a deep breath and continued. "He was... very messy. Completely disorganized. Not to mention totally barbaric... No manners or privacy! And so damn stubborn! Honestly, I have never met a more stubborn person in my life! Oh, and let's not forget a total control freak!"

That might have come out a bit angrier than I intended. Oops. The smile fell off Jordan's face, and Jane looked taken aback. "A lot of rage you've got there, eh, Casey?" Jane joked, chuckling a little. Jordan was still surprised at my venom. I guess she's not used to seeing me mad.

I sighed raggedly. "Well, he _was_ the **bane** of my existence for the worse part of three years," I mumbled, banging my head on the table.

Neither Jordan or Jane knew quite what to say about this. They merely exchanged looks over my head while I sighed. Damn you, Derek.

Of course, then... I really had no idea.

Damn you, Derek. Damn you.

Loren ;

Anyways, enjoy, feel free to leave a looong post... Fun stuff. See ya!


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